


Vanilla

by truejaku (hereonourstreet)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: M/M, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereonourstreet/pseuds/truejaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noiz issues a challenge across the room in Black Needle: he and Mizuki will dare to go farther than Koujaku and Aoba here, tucked away in booths, but still in the middle of the crowd. warning for massive misinterpretations of the layout of Black Needle i'm so sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanilla

            Koujaku is more than aware of the frankly offensive rumors that he’s _“vanilla,”_ and _“lame_ ,” and he’s also more than aware that it was most likely one bedazzled strawberry blond in a stupid hat that started spreading them. He’s not really that worried, since his dick sure seems to be big enough for his boyfriend, but he would certainly not complain if his best friend would stop dating the aforementioned strawberry blond asshole. He still doesn’t understand how that happened in the first place, but anytime he asks Mizuki how he fell for Noiz’s advances, Mizuki simply presses his lips together in a wide smile and says nothing. Koujaku hates it.

            In any case, it seems that Aoba prefers early nights where they both go home sober, neck nuzzling in bed, maybe some making out, and Koujaku isn’t bothered in the least. He’s not sure what kind of ridiculous sex Mizuki and Noiz get up to, but he’s certainly not wanting for it. Not that he and Aoba don’t have daylong sex sessions or the occasional dabble in bondage or orgasm denial, but Koujaku is more than happy with his sex life and Aoba has never complained either, so for all he cares, Noiz can suck it. Only not literally – swinging is one thing he’s not into. 

            And tonight, at Black Needle, Koujaku wraps an arm around Aoba’s waist and pulls him close to kiss him, expecting slight resistance and then an angry blush as he bashfully pushes him away – PDA isn’t always Aoba’s forte – but instead he meets lips that push willingly into his and a tug on the collar of his kimono. When he pulls away, he can see that Aoba’s cheeks are slightly pinked and he realizes he must be a bit tipsy.

            “Do you want to go home?” he asks, his mouth nipping at Aoba’s ear, leaving a trail of sly kisses along his scalp. Aoba pulls away and sits himself down in a booth.

            “Sit for a second,” he says, his arms outstretched, inviting Koujaku to sit next to him. “I just need a second.”

            Koujaku acquiesces and takes his spot next to Aoba, slides an arm around him and immediately starts to cover the side of his head in kisses. Tipsy Aoba doesn’t mind being showered in affection, so Koujaku is going to take advantage of it.

            “Are you okay?” he asks.

            “’M’fine,” Aoba nods, but his eyes are half-closed and he has his head tilted up, nose in the air as if he’s trying to sniff something out.

            “You’re not drunk?”

            “Do I _look_ drunk?” he asks suddenly, pulling his shoulder away from Koujaku with a pout and Koujaku laughs.

            “I guess not,” he says, and just as he’s about to pull Aoba back toward him, a glint in the light across the bar catches his eye and when he looks across the room, there sits his best friend in a booth opposite him. And, not at all to Koujaku’s surprise but much to his dismay, his boyfriend’s legs are entwined in his as the two make out more furiously than Koujaku has ever seen two humans do before in his life. “Oh, gross,” he grunts, sticking his tongue out and turning his face to the side. Aoba has slid a couple feet away from him at this point and has started saying goodbye to some Beni Shigure members who are leaving. Koujaku doesn’t have time for that.

            He leans forward, shouts, _“Can you two get a room or something?”_ and is met with a steely stares, not angry or confused, just simply empty gazes that seem to waft across the room. Koujaku sits back again and he thinks Aoba has leaned back into him by the time Noiz points at him, then to himself and then sticks his tongue out just before diving back into Mizuki’s mouth, lapping around his lips before sticking it in his mouth. He drives up on his knees and grips Mizuki’s cheeks, grabbing his hand and guiding it to his crotch and Mizuki must be wasted, because he gropes around for a few seconds as Noiz kisses him so sloppily that Koujaku swears he can see a bead of saliva form between their mouths as he pulls away.

            Koujaku’s initial reaction is to cover his mouth to stop himself from vomiting. But then Noiz points at him again and he realizes – he’s issuing a challenge.

            Too bad Koujaku doesn’t subject his boyfriend to silly contests like this – contests like this dick measuring competition initiated by a _kid_ who likes to show off with his drunken boyfriend far too much. Koujaku rolls his eyes and shakes his head, folds his arms and opens his mouth to chastise him loudly from across the room but then Aoba says crossly:

            “Is he _challenging_ us?”

            And then Koujaku has a lap full of boyfriend. His hands fly quickly to Aoba’s waist to center him, and he pulls him up further to keep him balanced as his lips crash into his. Aoba quickly squeezes on his cheeks with his thumb and forefinger to massage his jaw and Koujaku opens his mouth to accept a sloppy tongue, wet and warm and a little bit sweet from the alcohol. Aoba bobs his head up and down as he makes out with Koujaku just as hard, just as fervently – just as sloppily – as Noiz and Mizuki, and when he pulls away a few seconds later to turn back to Noiz, Koujaku is at a loss for words.

            “What are you – uh… don’t take that shithead seriously,” Koujaku sputters. Aoba turns to him with a sincere frown.

            “But we can win this,” he says and Koujaku wonders where his real boyfriend went and who this guy is instead. Then he sees emphatic waving out of the corner of his eye and he turns back just in time to see Noiz’s hand dive into Mizuki’s undone pants and he gags immediately.

            “He’s just rootin’ around down there! What is he hoping to find?!” he cries and Aoba rolls his eyes. Then he feels a hand on his own dick and – Aoba’s going for the buttons of his pants.

            “We can _win_ this,” Aoba mutters before Koujaku can stop him.

            “Don’t take that out!” he shouts, finally grabbing Aoba’s wrist and stilling his movements. Aoba grunts and pushes him off.

            “I’m not going to, idiot,” he mutters. “I’m just – ”

            He doesn’t finish his sentence and doesn’t really need to. He starts groping around Koujaku’s dick and Koujaku despises that he responds immediately to his boyfriend’s hand. Aoba runs his fingers along his clothed length, the tips gentle and fine until he gets to the base, which is harder to reach, where his grip gets tighter and he tugs at your dick enough that he accidentally groans from the back of his throat.

            “Aoba…” Koujaku moans, licking his bottom lip and trying to get the warning out. He wants to stop this… he does… he really does…

            “Don’t worry,” Aoba says, his head whipping to face Koujaku, the look in his eye deadly serious. “I’ll take care of it at home.”

            Koujaku tips his head back and lets his mouth slide open as he stares at the ceiling. He shouldn’t be letting this happen, but Aoba really isn’t so drunk that he doesn’t know what he’s doing – and it feels fucking great – so Koujaku doesn’t want to stop him. Maybe Noiz will shut up about being so _vanilla_ from now on.

            He’s focusing on how good Aoba’s hand feels, how fucking hot Aoba can be and how he’s still surprising Koujaku with things like this, things like a blowjob in the shower, a silk rope upon his arrival home at night, a fucking handjob in Black Needle, in front of everybody, when he hears Aoba retch and he tilts his head back forward to see that Noiz is now straddling Mizuki’s lap, guiding Mizuki’s hands to his back, and Mizuki runs his hands so far up Noiz’s back that he pulls his shirt up – far. Aoba shrugs.

            “He’s got a nice back,” he says and Koujaku frowns.

            “No he doesn’t, he has a… fat…  back,” he counters poorly. When they both look over again, Noiz’s shirt is off and he seems to have forgotten about the competition. He’s reaching for his own belt and Mizuki must not be as drunk as he seems, as he tries to stop him. Aoba’s lip pull thin and he looks at Koujaku from beneath his bangs.

            “I don’t think – I want to get naked,” he says and Koujaku frowns.

            “Of course not,” he says. “I would never make you do that.”

            Koujaku is about to cover his still hard cock up with his kimono and tell Aoba that when he’s _calm enough to walk,_ they’ll go home. But then he sees a shirtless Noiz turn around and sit down on Mizuki’s lap, start to grind down on him as he leans forward and stares at Aoba pointedly. He looks stupid shirtless but with that ridiculous hat still on. Koujaku scoffs. Aoba shakes his head and Koujaku is happy to leave it at that, but then Noiz cups a hand around his mouth and shouts:

            _“Vanilla!”_

“Did he just call you vanilla?” Aoba asks with an amused chuckle and that’s when Koujaku loses it.

            “We can win this,” he growls pointedly as he lifts Aoba off his lap and pulls his kimono down to his waist. Aoba doesn’t have to get naked. Koujaku would never subject him to that. But he can do whatever he wants. And he wants to beat Noiz.

            He grabs Aoba by the hand and pulls him back to his lap, brings him onto his waist and Aoba straddles him again, his hands on his shoulders, and Koujaku turns them both to the side, leans backwards against the side of the booth they’re in and the last thing he sees before he’s flat on his back with Aoba on top of him is Mizuki’s hands creeping to Noiz’s waist, gripping his sides, and fingers dipping into Noiz’s pants. That’s almost enough to lose his boner – almost.

            Because Aoba always straddles him so perfectly, with his ass sticking up in the air and his hands cupping Koujaku’s face. Koujaku loses himself to Aoba’s lips immediately almost every time, because _fuck,_ Aoba knows how to kiss for someone who gets so shy and insists he’s not entirely experienced. That’s never mattered to Koujaku anyway, but he certainly likes that Aoba always juts his hips into him, rolling them against his slowly, _so_ slowly, just slowly enough that by the time they’re both completely hard and rubbing each other’s dicks through their pants, Koujaku is dazed and forgets where he is.

            He puts a hand down to Aoba’s crotch and gropes him, but Aoba pulls away from his lips and whispers, _“Not here_ ,” and Koujaku groans and nods. Of course he wouldn’t if Aoba didn’t want to, but it’s dawning on him that trying to beat Noiz and Mizuki is going to entail going to bed hard, since there’s no way Aoba is going to jerk him off here, and if he tries to do much else right now, he’s sure Aoba will get mad.

            He’s not sure that’s worth the look on Noiz’s that he so often fantasizes about, the crestfallen denial of being beaten by Koujaku, the one that Koujaku longs to see some day. But Aoba’s face in mid-orgasm is far better so he brings his hand back up and squeezes Aoba’s chest.

            “Let’s go home then,” he whispers and Aoba nods. “I don’t care if they think I’m vanilla.”

            Aoba leans up but gives him one last smirk.

            “They don’t have to know just how kinky you can get,” he says softly. “And they don’t have to know just how kinky _we’ll_ get _tonight_.”

            And that sounds a million times better than beating Noiz in his stupid little contest.

            When Koujaku finally sits up, he notices the entire bar is staring at him and his boyfriend. Aoba, too, looks like a deer caught in the headlights and Koujaku starts to feel an embarrassed heat rise up on his cheeks. He points at Noiz and Mizuki across the way.

            “They’re practically naked and fucking but you’re going to stare at – ”

            That’s when he notices Noiz and Mizuki are gone. They’re probably fucking in the supply closet. They’re probably fucking nastier than anything Koujaku and Aoba would have ever done but no one will ever know. Because they’re gone.

            “They _were_ there,” Koujaku is still shouting as Aoba pulls him out the door, his face red as Koujaku’s kimono.

            Two days later, still no one believes him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY I NEVER SHIT ON MY OWN WORK BUT I JUST wanted to state for the record that this was one of those things where i had the idea and it wouldn't leave, so nah its not my best work. possibly a bit OOC too, i apologize i just. had to get the idea out. maybe one day i'll redo it so it's a little bit more substantial
> 
> i didnt even edit this i'm so sorry
> 
> also i realize the concept of "vanilla" might not be the same between cultures i'm soRRY


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